Poetry

[_KimberlyAnn]

Lately, I've been listening to poetry readings on YouTube. There's lots of good stuff there, like this reading of Poe's The Raven:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4p99rf63jCE

It's perhaps a bit rushed, but still, the voice is perfect. I find the video distracting and like to listen only. My girls were enthralled by it.

And, for something quite the opposite of Poe's work, a Hemmingway poem. This is Second Poem to Mary, recited by Hemmingway himself (He sounds, as one commenter put it, "drunk and angry."):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHWw4uOxui4

Care to share a favorite poem or two? Doesn't have to be audio. Most of us can read, I think. :)

KA

[_Amaterasu]

(Moderator Note) Post deleted for containing behind the scenes material.

Liz

[_skippy the dead]

(Moderator Note) Post deleted for behind the scenes material. Liz

Egads. Time to quit picking at this scab. Seriously.

[_KimberlyAnn]

(Moderator Note) Post deleted for behind the scenes material. Liz

(Moderator Note) Post deleted for behind the scenes material. Liz

[_Yoda]

(Moderator Note) Moniker---You need a break. You are on a one week suspension. Liz

[_Dr. Shades]

My favorite poem, by far, is "Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carroll:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9ZeWcXh ... re=related

Be sure to click on the "more information" link so you can read along:

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

[_KimberlyAnn]

I love that poem, too, Shades. You probably will disdain me after this, but I butchered it for an exmo friend and posted this on RfM a couple years ago:

Blabbertalky

Beware the Blabbertalk, my son!
The screeds that bite,
The lies that catch!
Beware FAIR’s didactic tedium,
And shun the otiose Peterson!

He took his numinous sword in hand,
Longtime the Mo-pologist foe he sought-
So rested he from M.A.D.
And reposed a while in thought.

And as in silent thought he sat,
The Blabbertalk with reasoning lame,
Lumbered through the World Wide Web,
Bloviating as it came!

One! Two! Logic! Truth! And though and through
The brilliant blade went snicker snack!
He left it dead, and with it died,
The church of Joe, Mythomaniac.

“And hast thou slain the Blabbertalk?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day! Callooh, Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

It sucks. Thorry.

KA

[_KimberlyAnn]

A sad poem that I like.

To An Athlete Dying Young
by A.E. Housman

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honors out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.

[_Dr. Shades]

It sucks.

On the contrary, it doesn't suck at all! It's quite brilliant; I loved it!!

Thorry.

??? Is that how one of your kids pronounces it?

[_KimberlyAnn]

I'm glad you liked it Dr. Shades.

Yes, that's how Chloe talks. With a slight lisp. It's not too pronounced, but it's there. The other day, we were in the car and Roberta Flack's song, Killing Me Softly played on my iPod. Chloe sang along like this:

"Thrumming my pain wif histh dinders, thinging my life wif histh wordsth, tilling me thoftly wif histh thong, tilling me thoftly wif histh thong..."

KA